


Ticklish

by CelestialVoid



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, Dad Derek Hale, Dad Stiles, Dad Stiles Stilinski, Domestic, Domestic Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, No Sex, No Smut, Non-Graphic Smut, One Shot, Parent-Child Relationship, Short One Shot, Tickle Fights, Tickling, Ticklish Stiles Stilinski, dad derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:47:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22487356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialVoid/pseuds/CelestialVoid
Summary: Stiles likes sitting upside down on the couch. Derek discovers he’s ticklish.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 32
Kudos: 398





	1. Chapter 1

Derek made his way down the stairs, following the sound of voices that were carried upstairs. He stopped in the open doorway that led into the living room, his brow furrowing in confusion slightly as he turned to see Stiles’ legs hanging over the back of the couch.

“What are you doing?” he hesitated to ask as he stepped into the living room, hiding a smirk as he walked over to the couch. He leant forward, resting his forearms on the back of the couch as he looked down at Stiles.

“Watching TV,” Stiles said nonchalantly, his eyes focused on the television.

“Upside down?” Derek added.

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“I got bored,” Stiles answered.

“Bored?” Derek repeated back to him, leaning further over the back of the couch.

He glanced down.

Stiles’ shirt had ridden up, exposing part of his stomach; his firm abs, pale skin covered in moles that charted constellations, and a trail of hair disappeared beneath the waistline of his pants.

A mischievous smirk lit up Derek’s face as a thought struck him. He leant forward and pressed a tender kiss to Stiles’ stomach.

Stiles felt out a yelp in surprise, flinching slightly.

“Don’t,” Stiles said warningly, already knowing what Derek was planning.

Derek’s smirk widened.

“Don’t what?” Derek teased.

“Don’t even think about it,” Stiles growled, lifting his head to look at Derek.

“Don’t think about what?” Derek asked, shuffling a little closer to Stiles and leaning forward.

“Don’t,” Stiles repeated.

“Don’t what? Don’t do this?”

He pressed his lips to Stiles’ stomach and blew a raspberry.

Stiles’ objections were drowned out as he dissolved into a fit of laughter. He thrashed about, gently pushing at Derek as he tried to squirm away.

“Stop,” he squealed through bursts of giggles. “Derek!”

Derek pulled back, watching as Stiles drew in broken breaths, his laughter dying away to a quiet chuckle as he steadied his breathing.

Derek pressed another soft kiss to Stiles’ stomach.

“No,” Stiles whined pathetically, pouting.

Derek let out a breathless chuckle.

“Okay, okay,” Derek said, straightening.

Stiles pouted as he grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it down, tucking it into the waistband of his pants.

“I’m sorry,” Derek apologised.

He climbed over the back of the couch and sat down next to Stiles.

Stiles looked at him, narrowing his eyes on Derek as he levelled him with a suspicious glare.

Derek reached over, taking Stiles’ hand in his and lacing their fingers together.

“No more tickling,” Derek said quietly, lifting Stiles’ hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of his hand. “I promise.”

Stiles let out a measured breath, but seemed to relax. His eyes drifted back to the television.

Derek let his hand rest on Stiles’ chest, intertwined with his. He sank back into the cushions of the couch, settling into the quiet.

He brushed the ball of his thumb across the back of Stiles’ hand, smiling as he felt Stiles gently squeeze his hand in return.


	2. Derek's Weakness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek says he’s not ticklish, but Stiles knows his weakness.

Derek took Stiles’ face in his hands, bringing their mouths together in a tender but passionate kiss.

Stiles let his breath fall from his lungs as his shoulders dropped. His eyes fluttered shut as he looped his arms around Derek’s neck, desperately clinging to his shirt.

Derek dropped his hands to Stiles’ waist and pulled him close, enveloping him in his warmth. He ran his tongue across Stiles’ bottom lip and moaned as he obediently opened his mouth to welcome Derek’s tongue.

Stiles sighed in return, weaving his fingers into Derek’s hair, pulling soft tufts into his fist as the other hand running down the man’s shoulder, bicep and back, wanting to feel every inch of him.

Derek drew back, brushing his lips across Stiles’ soft skin as he craned his neck and trailed kisses across the young man’s cheek, jaw, chin, and neck, kissing every mole he could find.

Stiles slid his hand up under the hem of Derek’s shirt, lifting it over his firm abs and pulling back in order to help Derek strip it off over his head. Derek craned his neck and chased Stiles’ soft pink lips, crushing their lips together in a messy kiss.

Stiles trailed his fingers down Derek’s chest, toying with the waistline of Derek’s jeans.

He drew back, dropping his lips to Derek’s throat, gently kissing, nipping and sucking at the tanned skin. The soft buds of his fingertips trailed down through the seams of Derek’s tight muscles, making the man gasp and arch to Stiles’ touch.

Stiles dragged his lips down Derek’s chest and abs as he lowered himself onto his knees.

He undid the button of Derek’s jeans and caught the zip between his teeth, dragging it down slowly. The vibrations rattled his teeth and sent a shiver down his spine.

Derek watched him with pale eyes blown black with lust, his jaw slack and lips quivering with shallow breaths.

Stiles slid his fingers under his waistband of Derek’s jeans and dragging the thick denim down to his ankles.

Derek pulled his feet free of his pants, kicking them aside

He ran the palms of his hands up Derek’s calves and up his legs.

Derek let out a yelp and pulled away from Stiles. He held a hand up to his face, letting out a measured breath as he tried to compose himself.

“Are you alright?” Stiles asked, a look of alarm lighting up his face.

“I’m fine,” Derek said, trying to sound convincing.

Stiles pulled a sour face.

Derek smiled softly. He leant forward, brushing a finger under Stiles’ chin and tipping his face upwards as he brought their lips together in a tender kiss.

Stiles reached forward, his hands settling around Derek’s calves. His touch was warm and soft as he slowly trailed his hand up Derek’s legs.

Derek let out a sharp gasp and pulled back.

He looked back at Stiles, seeing the look of hurt and confusion in his eyes.

Derek let out a measured breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“Derek, if you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to,” Stiles said reassuringly.

“It’s not that,” Derek replied. “Believe me, I want to do this.”

Derek took a step closer, holding out his hands to Stiles.

“Come here,” he said softly, pulling his boyfriend into his arms.

Derek cupped Stiles’ face in his hands and brought their lips together again.

He slid his hands down Stiles’ thighs, lifting him off his feet.

Stiles instinctively wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist as Derek carried him over to the bed, laying him back against the mattress and pinning him there under his warmth.

Stiles hooked his legs around Derek’s waist, running his root up the inside of Derek’s leg.

Derek bolted upright, holding his breath. He didn’t meet Stiles’ eye.

“Derek,” Stiles started, his voice soft.

He pushed himself upright, reaching out and cupping his boyfriend’s face as he gently turned Derek’s face to look at him.

“Derek, what’s going on?” 

“It’s nothing,” Derek tried to dismiss.

“No, it’s something,” Stiles argued. “You keep pulling way.”

Derek dropped his gaze, unable to meet Stiles’ eye.

“If I’m doing something wrong—”

“No,” Derek interrupted. “It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” Stiles asked.

Derek didn’t answer.

He didn’t have to; the pieces seemed to fall into place in Stiles’ mind. He leant forward slightly; just enough that he could reach out brush his fingers against the underside of Derek’s knee.

Derek let out a yelp and pulled away.

A smile lit up Stiles’ face.

“You’re ticklish,” he said, unable to hide the delight in his voice.

“No,” Derek tried to deny. “I am not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not ticklish,” Derek insisted.

“Oh, really?” Stiles said, lifting an eyebrow as his smile turned into something more mischievous.

He reached out and tickled Derek behind the knee, smiling as his boyfriend dissolved into fits of laughter.

Derek thrashed about, gently swatting at Stiles’ hands as he tried to squirm away.

Stiles stopped, letting Derek catch his breath.

The man collapsed back against the mattress beside Stiles.

Derek levelled him with a threatening glare, pointing an accusing finger at him. “If you so much as breathe a word about this to anyone…”

Stiles held his hand over his heart. “I swear, I won’t tell another soul.”

“Good,” Derek said, a small, relieved smile creeping onto his face.

Stiles’ chocolate brown eyes darkened, a wicked smirk turning up the corners of his lips. “But I cannot promise I won’t use this knowledge for myself.”

“Is that so?” Derek said, matching he deviousness in his smirk.

He wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist and flipped the young man onto his back, pinning him to the mattress and silencing Stiles’ giggling as he brought their lips together in a blisteringly passionate kiss.


	3. It Runs In The Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like father, like son.

The child’s delighted squeal rang out through the house, followed by a burst of laughter.

Derek looked up from his work, looking across through the open doorways as he tried to calm his startled, racing heart.

He frowned in confusion, rising from where he sat at the dining table; his paperwork scattered around him and his laptop open.

He followed the sound of laughter through the house and into the living room where Stiles sat on the couch with their one-year-old son, Noah, beside him.

Derek took another step forward, resting his forearms on the back of the cushions as he leant over the back of the couch.

He looked down at his son, his brow still furrowed in confusion.

The boy smiled up at him, his eyes lit up with joy as he wriggled about on the couch cushion, his laughter slowly dying away as he caught his breath.

Stiles looked up at Derek, flashing a sweet smile as he tried to play innocent, but the glint of mischief in his eyes gave him away.

“What are you doing?” Derek asked him.

“Nothing,” Stiles said, not at all convincingly.

Derek cocked an eyebrow questioningly, levelling his husband with a look.

Then—as a real answer—Stiles reached out to their son and tickled him.

Noah burst into fits of laughter, wriggling and squirming as he squealed with joy.

The boy gently swatted Stiles’ hands away and Stiles sat back, letting Noah catch his breath.

Derek pulled a face of exaggerated shock as he looked from Noah to Stiles. A soft smile turned up the corners of his mouth as he met Stiles’ gaze.

“He’s as ticklish as you are,” Derek said.

“Like father, like son,” Stiles replied proudly.

Derek rolled his eyes. He pushed himself upright and made a start to head back to his work when he paused. He turned back to the two of them and leant over the back of the couch, close enough to whisper to Noah, “Tickle him back.”

A smug smile lit up his face as he glanced at Stiles.

Stiles’ mischievous smile fell as a look of worry settled on his face.

He turned to walk back to the dining room when he heard the sound of his husband’s uncontrollable laughter ring out through the house, echoed by their son’s delighted giggling.

Derek couldn’t help but smile to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> celestialvoid-fanfiction.tumblr.com


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